


It's nice to have a friend

by DrJackAndMissJo



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, POV Feyre Archeron, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-10-12 10:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJackAndMissJo/pseuds/DrJackAndMissJo
Summary: She could feel the eyes burning on her back. Everyone already knew of what had happened.She was finally free.***Inspired and written following the lyrics of Taylor Swift's song 'it's nice to have a friend'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
As usual, I don't own shit, those characters belong to SJMass and the lyrics belong to Taylor Swift, aka the Queen of My Heart.  
I recommend listening to the song while reading this, there are some introductory chapters but the majority is inspired directly from the lyrics of the song.  
I hope you enjoy!

She could feel the eyes burning on her back. Everyone already knew of what had happened.

Tamlin hadn't waited till the end of the classes this time. He hadn't waited till they were both free of lectures and outside and far away from other people, where no one could hear the shouts coming from him or her scared silence. Instead, he had cornered her as soon as her Medieval art history class had been dismissed, not bothering to let the other students leave the room or to keep his voice down. As a political science major and as the son of a wealthy alumnus of their university, he thought and was taught that the world was at his feet, expecting everyone to bow in front of him and follow his every orders. 

Unfortunately for him, Feyre had a completely different point of view and didn't fit perfectly into his fantasy. No matter how hard he shoved her in. She was independent and proud and she would not be belittled any longer.

That day was the last drop. The final blow.

Tamlin raged on and on about how she didn't care for him since she didn't follow his every ridiculous orders to a T, how she didn't love him considering she hadn't spent every single second of her free and occupied time at his wishes, about how she probably was cheating on him while being locked up in her dormitory room with Mor as they both poured hearts and souls into their Winter Finals. 

How she didn’t deserve someone that cared for her the way he did. That had been the bullet that killed Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and gave way to World War I.

Usually, Feyre would remain patient and calm and listen to his rambling, raging complaints until he was done and apologizing profusely, incredibly sorry and trying to make the scene that nobody had seen better with either mediocre sex, where he looked mostly for his own pleasure, or an incredibly romantic and over-the-top gesture, all because he was incredibly stressed and he needed to vent and she was the only person he could let his guard down around.

But that day was their final step towards an inevitable break up. She was tired, had been for a while. Tired of being bossed around, tired of getting earfuls and yellings just because she couldn’t afford to skip a lecture to hang out with him, tired of being told her career plan wasn't safe since she was working with her  _ 'hobby' _ . Tired of being used as a punching bag for him to take all his problems off. She had managed to put off the unpleasantries for as long as she could, swallowing down anger and hurt because he loved her and she loved him, right? But she had not felt any type of emotion that wasn’t negative towards him since Christmas.

She interrupted him halfway through his madman speech, conscious of and hating every single pair of eyes turned on the current entertainment.

She couldn't really blame them. Finals had been hell for everyone who couldn't pay their ways in and once in a while a good scene was what would lighten up the air and raise up the collective morale. But that didn't mean that she enjoyed being the centre of all her class's attention.

Breathing deeply and raising a hand to shut him up, she said "Imma stop you right there", her voice steady and laced with cold rage she had mustered from years listening to her eldest sister. 

"We're over. You're an entitled, misogynistic, possessive, jealousy driven, toxic asshole with anger management issues. I'm tired of putting up with your bullshit and I'm honestly scared of the shit you might come up with next. I hope you resolve your problems and all, I truly do. But you shouldn't be my problem and I am far too busy to be your caretaker. Lord knows you're rich enough to get yourself one. That being said, get off my fucking face before I break your nose and do some serious damage to your fucking reputation. Don't ever darken my sight anymore." And with that she gathered her bag and made a beeline for the door, leaving behind an incredibly stunned classroom and a visibly shaking, red faced Tamlin.

She didn't remain to check if everything was alright. She didn’t turn around to see his next reaction, the temper tantrum she knew lurked beneath his skin, ready to be triggered off and explode. Instead, she just moved towards her next lesson, on the other side of the building.

She had a lightness in her steps that she hadn't had in a few months and a lightness in her heart that was now beating freely in her ribcage.

It had all happened two hours ago. Without a shadow of a doubt, everyone in their campus knew. She had received sympathetic glances as well as spiteful ones as she moved around the place, but for once she didn't care. She was free.

Feyre saw him as she entered the English Lit room. Rhysand was peacefully reading his book, his backpack occupying the spot next to him, as it always did.

Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the row he had chosen and moved slowly, as if in a dream. He always kept a place for her in the classes they shared, but due to Tamlin's obsessive control issues, she hadn't been able to sit there, otherwise it would've turned ugly.  _ “It turned ugly anyway _ ” she thought darkly, ashamed of how weak she had been.

But she didn't have to keep up with that bullshit anymore. So she unceremoniously shoved her bag on the desk and began to silently stare at Rhys, poking holes in his skull as he read. A small smile appeared on his lips. "What brings you here, Feyre Darling?"

She blushed at the usual greeting, before replying with a simple "You know, don't you?"

He put his book down and turned his attention to her. Violet eyes stared into her grey ones, assessing that she was alright.

"Can I sit here or are you going to leave me standing the whole lecture?" she asked, faking irritation as a big smile replaced the small one on his face. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna sleep throughout it anyway, but I'd rather not fall and embarrass myself in front of Professor Carver."

"By all means, the floor is yours" he replied motioning towards the empty carpet as he removed the backpack from the chair.

Sitting down plainly, she muttered a barely audible "Prick" that had him smiling widely at her, before he flicked her nose. Before she was able to reply, the professor made his entrance and demanded silence as he began his lesson.

She could feel Rhys' eyes cautiously on her throughout the lecture.


	2. 2

Tiredness came crushing Feyre down like a boulder. It had been a long day, a long life, and she couldn't wait to get back into her dorm room, snuggle up in her bed and let the world disappear, even if just for a couple of hours. It was what she deserved, having let down everyone in her life with her stubbornness and uneasiness.

Despite the initial rush of relief and euphoria, everything else came rushing back into focus. The loneliness, the stress, the hunger.

Although she was the youngest of her family, she had been the only one willing to work. Her father couldn't move from the bed most days and her sisters were far too proud to get dirty hands in any situation that didn't require spending money, instead of gaining them. Feyre had managed to juggle great grades in all her AP classes in high school as well as two minimum wage jobs, one in a diner as a waitress and the other in a small arts & crafts shop. Since she had been 14, she was the only one bringing an income to the table, to make sure that they had food and a roof over their heads. Their father's small veteran pension didn't suffice anymore as soon as Nesta, her eldest sister, got into their city's most prestigious and expensive university, choosing an economics major, and money became even less when Elain, the second one, was accepted into the same university for their botanical department. Granted, they both managed to archive scholarships, Nesta with her stellar grades and Elain with a cheerleading position. But money had never been easy to begin with and even with those scholarships, Feyre still had to struggle to keep the family afloat.

Both sisters still lived into their childhood home with Feyre and their father, their mother long gone, but both claimed to be far too busy with schoolwork to help their sister economically. Feyre knew she shouldn't resent them, but every time either came to her asking for money for new expensive shoes or to go out with their friends, she couldn't do anything other than swallow the bile and give in to their demands, wondering when would come her turn to be a normal teenager and go out with her nonexistent friends.

When Feyre's time to leave high school came she was faced with a decision: community college, since she couldn't afford the one her sisters went to without selling both her kidneys and a lung, or move away to Velaris, to the other side of Prythian, where the art department offered her a full scholarship after having received her request of admission and a sample of the works she had created during high school. She would still need to work to pay her stay and maintain the nearly perfect grades she had in high school, but she knew she could do it.

As soon as the acceptance letter came alongside the papers for the scholarship, she sat both her sisters down. Nesta had started working in an office, putting in good money with a 9 to 6 routine, but Elain was still on her senior year. Fortunately for Feyre, her eldest sister seemed to understand the situation and all but kicked her out of the house as soon as September rolled around, paying herself for Elain's last year. Feyre didn't ask for anything, and neither sister gave anything.

During the summer Feyre worked still her two usual jobs and began studying for her freshman courses and her sophomores ones as well. She wanted to finish early and so she planned and rescheduled the credit units she had to take each year to be able to finish in 2.5/3 years instead of 4.

On September 1st she had packed her entire life into a couple of suitcases and kissed goodbye to her sisters as she boarded the train for a 12 hours ride to the other side of the country. A plane would've been quicker but also more expensive and she planned on saving the money, old habits dying hard. 

" _ This feels just like leaving for Hogwarts" _ she had thought as the train began to move out of the station, her sisters still there to wave her goodbye one last time.

She had moved into a dorm room and began working at the library that same day, as soon as her badge began working. _ "Screw freshman week!" _ Feyre thought as she shelved books and checked them out for other students. She had heard rumors about what went down in that short period of time and it wasn't truly her cup of tea anyway.

Her roommate was a senior in fashion & merchandise named Alis, bronze skinned with long black curls that framed her face nicely. She helped Feyre settle in and brought her to a few sorority parties in the first month, dragging her despite the younger's complaints about wasted hours. Alis had laughed at that and simply replied "You don't wanna miss too much 'cause you're studying all the time, trust me."

She had met Tamlin at one of those parties. He was a sophomore and member of one of the fraternities around campus and began to hit on Feyre immediately, relentlessly. At first she was flattered, not used to guys giving her attention of any sort if it wasn't for exchanged coursework, but she still maintained herself cold and distant, not sure of how to fit him into her packed schedule. After a few months of incessant flirting, although she had brushed him off several times, she had finally caved in and they began dating. "I knew you'd come around!" he had claimed.

Their first months were incredible. He didn't bother her much nor demand too much time from her, letting her study and work. He filled her up with warmth and with him, for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone in the world anymore.

She enjoyed the time she spent with him, but then May came and Finals with it. Feyre couldn't move from the library, remaining there after her shift had ended and studying in one of the booths. She simply didn't have time for anything else. She had to keep all her grades up, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to remain at the university. 

That was when things started to go downhill with Tamlin. They fought almost constantly due to his paranoia and her lack of availability, and yet he had chosen the worst possible moment to confess the depth of his feelings to her. They argued about her job at the library, how it was talking too much time from their relationship when it happened. Feyre felt like she was being gutted as he spoke the three words that she had never heard before in her life. "Why do you look like it's the worst thing you've ever heard?" he had demanded harshly when she hadn't replied immediately back.  _ "Because it is" _ she wanted to say, but instead followed his lead, giving him empty words without meaning, because everything was better than the constant fights. 

He became obsessive then, as if her void confession had flipped a switch inside of him, and demanded to know where she was almost every minute of the day. 

Thankfully summer came and went, the two months a sweet reprieve as she went back home. She had ended all her compulsory freshman classes and half of the ones she was supposed to take during sophomore year and loosened a little, choosing to focus on making a little more money to be able to live comfortably in Velaris.

Then it was again September. Tamlin had picked her up from the train station and took her to a nice restaurant to make up for the ' _ lost time' _ without her during his summer in Europe. Feyre didn't particularly mind, but she also didn't like over the top romantic gestures as much as he did. Still, she kept quiet and enjoyed the nice evening, as he was back into his ' _ old' _ self, as he spoke of his travels and the people he had met and the food he had eaten. By the end of the night they didn't have much time to share how she had spent the summer working and being overall plain and boring, but she didn't mind that he hadn't asked, since she hadn't been particularly fond of telling him either.

A new school year meant a new roommate for Feyre, since Alis had graduated that summer, and whatever star was looking over her granted Feyre Morrigan. 

Morrigan Gold was a beautiful soul. She was pre-law junior and had a constant real smile on her lips, her long golden hair cascading on her back in soft curls. Her tan skin and kind brown eyes gave her an aura of gentleness that very few possessed. She was truly Feyre's first real friend, not just someone to hang out with or to talk to, but someone she could see easily in her life still 50 years in the future, sipping tea and laughing on a porch, talking about everything and nothing.

"That's how you know someone's gonna stick" Mor had told her one night, coming back from Rita's, their usual club, "you imagine being old on a porch with them!" Feyre had laughed at that, claiming that she wasn't 100% sure of that reality since she couldn't imagine Tamlin ever sitting outside peacefully. That just earned her a pointed stare from the other girl, but neither commented and they changed the topic onto something easier as they stumbled back to their dorm room, completely wasted and happy. The next day brought a wicked hangover and Tamlin, pissed that she had gone out without him and that she had drunk, but Mor, bless her soul, didn't comment either. She just offered Feyre a shoulder to cry on and her comfort, swearing to cut off his balls at her command. The aspiring artist merely laughed at that through her tears, unsure of what she wanted to do herself.

But having Mor as a friend meant also that Feyre had been adopted into her Inner Circle. 

Adopted by Amren Drake, the tiny terrifying senior that already had a job for the following year as an associate to teach Ancient Greek. 

Adopted by Azriel Nox, Morrigan's adoptive cousins that learnt informatics and coding as if they were his mother tongue. 

Adopted by Cassian Nox, Mor's other adoptive cousin that could cook a masterpiece and also ' _ kick some serious butt' _ at any given occasion.

And, finally, adopted by Rhysand Nox, Mor's actual cousin of blood. Rhys was an English major, a year older than Feyre, like everyone else in their little family. He was the type of person that one day, without a doubt, would win some prize for the things he wrote, but still had to master the art through higher education first. The only way to describe him was by calling him a _'dreamer_ _who refused to settle into a grey reality'. _He was an optimist and one of the most beautiful people Feyre had ever met, both inside and outside. Jet black hair, dark skin and a smile that could knock the socks off of a statue, he was also the most humble and down to earth guy in a mile radius. They had hit it off right away, with innocent platonic flirting and long serious talks. He knew she was with Tamlin and didn't push her boundaries. He saw the world the same way she did and she understood what he meant before he even said it.

Needless to say, when Tamlin found out who she was hanging with, he became even more paranoid than he already was. It wasn't only the fact that she hung out with males that weren't him to set him off. The thing that drove him ballistic was her closeness with Rhysand, his sworn one-sided enemy that had bested him in every class they had shared on their freshman year.

Her best and closest friend in the entire world.

She had been forced choose by Tamlin, before the Christmas break, between him and her friends, and choose to please her boyfriend and started to isolate herself little by little from her group of friends, afraid of what would have happened otherwise. After all, she had no one but Tamlin, right?

But as she came back from the free days spent at home with her sisters and father, she began to realize how lonely she was, how unhappy she had been lately. She had retorted back into her former self, into the girl that only thought about school and work, that didn't have time for friends.

Feyre decided to give their relationship more time, to wait till the finals were over and till everything was back to normal, but things never were  _ normal _ to begin with.

And so, that cold February day, she cut it off in front of all her classmates and began to feel immediately better.

But now she was once again tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a callback to another Taylor Song here, Cruel Summer. Let me know if you can find it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School bell rings, walk me home  
Sidewalk chalk covered in snow  
Lost my gloves, you give me one  
"Wanna hang out?"  
Yeah, sounds like fun

"Earth to Feyre, can you hear me? Do you copy?" a quiet voice called as a pair of strong hands shook her gently.

She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep, "I didn't snore, did I?" she asked, dread settling in her bones. Rhys' laugh filled her mind, "No, darling. You were as silent as a mouse."

The smile he gave her broke her heart and lifted the heavy air from her lungs. Her eyes began to close again, as she felt comfortable and safe, but Rhys kept on gently moving her. "Class's over, Feyre. It's time to go."

Begrudgingly accepting her reality, she went to pack back her books, only to find them already neatly put away in her bag. Rhys replied to her pointed look with a sheepish one of his own, but shrug his broad shoulders and helped her up.

They walked silently side by side through the busy halls, avoiding people's stares. News of Tamlin's reaction reached her, as well as the fake rumours he and his friends from his fraternity had started spreading about her, but she couldn't care right now. 

With everyone else the quiet walk would've driven Feyre insane, but with Rhys it was different. She was comfortable not speaking, just being around him, and he knew very well when to talk and when to just be there with her in silence, giving her the space to sort herself.

As soon as the cold air hit her face, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting everything wash over her and content to just froze there in time. Her fellow had a different plan. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her and, when she stiffened out of surprise, removed himself completely, only to be thrown off balance by her lithe body as she moved quickly to encircle him as well.

He stifled a laugh into her hair as he breathed her in. "Need to talk about it?" he asked her quietly, as if by raising his voice a little he could break the moment. Feyre simply shook her head, muttering a quick "Not yet" as her arms still clung around his neck.

For how long they remained like that Feyre didn't know and didn't want to know. Eventually the cold had the best of them and they moved from their cozy position. They began to walk towards her dormitory out of impulse, through a path on the pavement that was cleared of snow, and Rhys started mindlessly talking about the lecture she missed because of her little nap.

"You should've seen it! Professor Carver was in such a good mood today, I didn't drift away for a minute. I was glued to the man. And you slept throughout it!" She smiled fondly at him, conscious that his attention did falther to check on her, but deciding to keep that truth for herself. She was cold and shaking, her gloves forgotten at home in the morning rush to get to her first class in time.

Out of the blue, she was stopped abruptly by a floating hand holding a single glove in front of her face. The black piece of clothing was far too big for her small hands. "What's this?" she asked breathlessly, the cold weather freezing the words as soon as they leave her mouth and creating little clouds around her mouth. 

"You're shivering and your pockets aren't big enough. Take this and I'll take care of your other hand, milady." He finished his little speech with a small bow in her direction, eyes sparking in amusement and mischief.

Feyre smiled fondly at him and blood rushed to her cheeks to heat them up. She did as she'd been told, thankful for her scarf that covered her reddened face as he gently took her right hand in his left and swiftly put them both in his jacket pocket, standing now closer than before. It came naturally to hold his hand, neither awkwardly nor stiffly. She smiled again, to herself this time, and he traced invisible paths with his thumb on her hand as they continued to walk and talk.

Rhys' phone went off as they're near the first dorm building. Green Day blasted off his speaker as he reached inside his backpack to collect it. She took her hand out of his reluctantly and patiently waited, trying not to listen to the conversation that was happening next to her and to not step over any boundaries she had to self impose with her own friends. 

Just because Rhys had been comprehensive and accepting of her return that didn't mean the others would be.

"Fey?" he whispered and turned her around with his hands on her shoulders, now fully facing him. "Cass' bringing food back tonight and I'm pretty sure Az has some design that he wants you to see." he said, eyes earnest and assessing her carefully, "Wanna hang out?" he uttered hopefully.

She stared into his violet eyes, carefully. She had been a fool in love, letting Tamlin control her and diminish her. But she wasn't in love anymore and she was no fool.

She took his empty unclothed hand in her own and shoved both back into his pocket. "Yeah. Sounds like fun."

The smile Rhys have her back fixed every smudged edge of her heart only to break them all once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Video games, you pass me a note  
Sleeping in tents

As Rhys had predicted, Azriel actually had a graphic design that he wanted to her to help with. The colour palette was slightly off and the overall image was too crowded, but it took them no time to correct it as Rhys and Mor tried to kill each other at Mario Kart.

"Children. Stop yelling! We're trying to work here!" called loudly Amren at the pair sitted on the floor as she sat at the table next to Feyre, staring intensely at Az's computer screen as if she could break it with her gaze. In a few moments they finished the last modifications and the result turned out spectacular, vibrant and almost alive. Azriel would still need to put the refined touches on the coding to make sure the picture moved properly, but for now the work was done and more than satisfactory for both parties and for Amren, who simply overlooked everything, not really fond of tech. 

The present Inner Circle had welcomed her back warmly. Mor still saw her everyday and simply smiled at her, knowing already everything that had happened directly from the source in a 20 minutes call from the girls' bathroom, but Azriel had smiled warmly at her as she entered the room. She had seen all of them a little over a month prior around campus, yet it still felt as if it had happened a decade ago. The short weeks were an abyss of time she had lost and wasn't sure would be allowed to regain, until Amren saw her.

The tiny scary woman surprised her by wrapping her in a bone crushing hug, knocking the breath out of her before removing herself quickly. "Heard you handed him his ass" she said looking at her blood red nails, looking for insistent imperfections.

"Not quite" Feyre replied quietly.

"Pity."

They were now all hauled on the small couch in front of the TV, controller in hand as they each tried to win the race while waiting for Cassian to arrive. Before he ever opened the door, the peaceful aroma of food reached them. The apartment the three brothers shared became immediately livelier as they each took a container from Cass as he removed the fresh snow off of his coat.

Before she knew what hit her, Feyre was being crushed between the worn out couch and a strong warm body. She hugged Cassian back with equal strength, letting her head rest on his shoulder for a moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked, truly concerned.

"I'm fine." she replied swiftly and he saw it for the lie it was. 

"Good. Fine is great!" he claimed as he released her from her pillowy trap. They both laughed deeply, Feyre bending on herself to maintain some sort of control and Cassian hollering back fully, almost falling on the ground. 

Everyone else looked curiously at them, amusement on their faces.

"Let's get on with this" Amren huffed "I'm famished."

"I didn't know you ate, Tiny One. I would've brought innocent tears if I'd known." claimed a smiling Cassian as he moved to seat next to her, leaving the place between Mor and Rhys for Feyre. 

Dinner passed without a blur, filling both Feyre's stomach and soul. As Az and Cass started a discussion about who could eat more cupcakes, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She tensed immediately, hoping it wasn't Tamlin, but reached for it anyway with surprisingly steady hands. 

To her surprise it wasn't her recent ex, but the idiot seated next to her. She gave him a puzzled glance, but he was ignoring her, focusing on his brothers. She opened her message app and stared at the screen. There were only two words there, " _ You better? _ "

She stared at it for a few heartbeats, before typing  _ "I don't know _ " and hitting the reply button.

A few moments later she felt the buzzing again as she was talking to Amren about her next turn at the library. The text was once again simple.  _ "Need anything?" _ . She replied quickly back with " _ A friend would be nice.".  _

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him relax slightly on his chair. And that eased something off of herself as well.

***

Time flew by. Before any one of them knew, it was midnight. Laughter and clatter began to falter slowly. Mor had began to doze off on the couch, sprayed like a cat. Feyre wasn't too far behind herself, her head on Rhys' shoulder as she talked with Cass about  _ 'When the hell he was going to teach her how to make bloody rice?' _ . The sneaky bastard just laughed at her, reminding everyone how the young artist couldn't even boil water without destroying an entire kitchen.

Az's phone rang up once, signaling a single text, and he bolted immediately out of his chair to the nearest window after reading it. It had been snowing for the previous hours now and it gave no indication of faltering nor stopping anytime soon.

He turned around slowly and purposefully, and looked at everyone still awake in the eye, his own brown ones shining with mischief. "I have one awesome news, a terrible one and a great yet unexpected turn of events" he claimed to the silent room.

"Get on with it, you overgrown child" spat Amren, taking a sip of her wine, "It's not like we have all night!"

"As a matter of fact, we do!"

Mor perked up at that, simply muttering in a sleepy voice "Sleepover?" and promptly falling back onto the couch, slightly more awake than before. Azriel smiled widely and nodded his head in confirmation, "That is the great yet unexpected turn of events" he said while once again seated. "Terrible news is that we're snowed in till morning comes and someone cleans the streets a little." 

"And the awesome one?" asked Feyre, extremely excited at the prospect. She would've never been able to enjoy a night like that if she hadn't put a stop to trainwreck that was her relationship and the more time passed the more she grew comfortable and happy in her decision.

"Classes are cancelled for the whole day tomorrow and therefore will start back as regularly scheduled on Monday, if my sources are correct". Before anyone could begin to reply Az added in a defensive tone :"Which they are!" and crossed his arms at his chest.

Cassian threw his head back in laughter at his brother's stance, "Nobody doubts them, it's just that we wanna meet them!". Azriel's dark skin assumed a red tint on his face but didn't bulge. He was always so secretive when it came to whatever kind soul gave him those kind of informations firsthand, and they all loved to tease him with that.

"Feel free to not believe me, brother. May I remind you who warned you of a certain pop quiz you hadn't studied for?" Everyone began laughing, the air livelier once more. 

In the end, the boys decided to get some camping gear they used during spring hikes on the mountains around Velaris and move the furniture of the open space kitchen and living room to make space for the tents. 

"Like hell I'm letting any of you creatures in my room!" yelled an outraged Cassian as soon as the topic was brought up.

There were enough tents for the five of them, since Amren outright refused to sleep on the ground and took up Azriel's bedroom, complaining the whole time. With enough alcohol in their system, they all managed to mount up the tents somewhat properly, Feyre alone needing a little help from Cassian.

After one more round of shots and a very poor game of cards, Mor bid her goodnights and disappeared to change into one of the spare pajamas she always kept into the boys' apartment, lending one each to Feyre and Amren and refusing soundly to borrow a nightgown to Cassian. Az and Cass followed a little later, going to their respective bathrooms, leaving Feyre alone with Rhys as they each waited their turn.

"Thank you for the lovely evening" she said awkwardly, but he cut her off almost immediately. "You're one of us, Fey. No need to ever apologise."

"Even if I steal from your secret stash of cookies?"

"I wouldn't accept them and I would probably put a bounty on your head." he replied in earnestness. They both cracked a smile at that, at ease with each other. 

"Still I wanna thank you. For everything." 

"I only want to help, Darling."

She was at loss for words. She was so completely wrong to think that she would be lonely again without Tamlin. While it was true that before him she had no one, now she had found a new family, that cared for her and that she cared for. She was overcome with emotion and simply smiled back at Rhys, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill out of her, his violet eyes always on her kindly. "This is helping."

"What is?" he breathed, almost a secret that he was afraid to share.

"This between us. Being your friend" she replied equally cautious and mindful of the others.

"Well, what can I say, Darling?  _ It's nice to have a friend." _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light pink sky up on the roof  
Sun sinks down, no curfew  
Twenty questions, we tell the truth  
You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too  
Something gave you the nerve  
To touch my hand

There was a peacefulness now that hadn't been there before.

Finishing an exam always brought a rush of adrenaline and happiness and freedom, even if it went painfully bad, which luckily for Feyre she had never experienced for herself. But there was more to add to the equation now, the relief crushing her down not only from a momentary freedom, but from a semi-longlasting one: she had completely finished all the classes and courses from both her sophomore and junior year, meaning she only need the remaining ones from her senior one and she would be officially done.

She wouldn't need to pull all-nighters every two days or so, her new load of schoolwork more manageable than ever, and she could finally allow herself to daydream a little and look for internships she could be passionate about. She had already sent the due emails and letters around Velaris, hoping for a spot in one of the city's many museums, but replies wouldn't come until the beginning of the new academic year.

Life was the best she had ever had. At least partially.

With her father's worsening health, doctors weren't sure he would last till Christmas. He wasn't allowed to leave the hospital, his lungs refusing to work without the machines.

"At least he has the veteran insurance to cover for most hospital bills" Nesta had told her one night as they discussed on the phone. But the money wasn't enough to keep him there. And so during the summer they planned to clean up their childhood home, to remove everything, and pass it over to new owners. Nesta had done everything necessary to make sure they earned a little bit more from the selling and was ready to cut each sister their parts after having paid the debts off. 

Feyre wasn't a particularly sentimental person, choosing to focus mostly on the rational things in her life, and that house didn't bring many positive memories to her mind; but she was still shocked by the news and saddened to know her father's condition. Nevertheless, she maintained a straight mindset and moved forward, helping in everyway that she could even from such a distance. Plus, with her part from the deal she wouldn't have to work during the summer, only to focus on emptying all her childhood memories into boxes to bring to Velaris, or to either leave at her sisters' new place for a while or to throw away definitely. 

She had left many of the various gifts Tamlin had given her during their relationship there and already knew what to donate and what to sell, as she had already done with the ones that crumpled up her dorm room. The expensive earrings he had gifted her for Valentine's day had paid for a new top-notch computer with an attachable drawing tablet, with all the new cool features an artist could want. Surely the diamond necklace she had received from him for her birthday could pay for the bathroom renovations.

Another problem came from Velaris itself, her perfect city of Starlight. Mor and Amren had done the math and had asked her to move into a three-bedrooms apartment on the other side of the river Sidra, where the ' _ Bat Boys _ ', as Amren had named the Nox brothers, lived. Commute to the university would be ten minutes longer, but it would also be incredibly cheaper. 

"Besides" Mor had whispered rather loudly, earning a light punch from the shorter woman, "we get to finally know if Amren sleeps at all or is an actual vampire!"

And Feyre wanted nothing more than to accept their proposal, but self doubts started to come to her and burden her immensely.  _ 'What if? _ 's swarmed around in her head. In the end, she had admitted having to wait a little, still unsure of the situation back home, and both girls understood. They were going to rent the place anyway, Mor had said, and she had also asked Feyre to accompany them house-hunting, since "It might be your place too!". Mor's enthusiasm was too contagious and Feyre was unable to resist.

And now there she was, head full of thoughts, on the boys' building's roof, canvas in front of her painted light pink as the Sun sank down. Azriel had let her up without a single question asked after a pointed stare and for that she was infinitely grateful. She still had no words to explain herself at the moment.

And there was also the microscopic tiny issue regarding a certain black haired, violet eyed idiot.

"There you are! I've been looking for you."

Feyre didn't need to turn around to know who was talking to her. She smiled fondly as his trademark scent of citrus and sea salt engulfed her, her muscles instantly relaxing as the pounding in her chest became louder. She wondered if he could hear it as he moved closer, sitting on the chair next to hers.

They remained silently side by side until the Sun had completely disappeared over the horizon, Feyre painting the last few swirls of colour and Rhys contemplating the view.

When all the natural light left, Rhys asked cautiously:"A thought for a thought?". She smiled softly at his antics, his usual little game to gain a piece of her mind endlessly endearing. 

"I'm thinking about moving in with Mor and Amren on this side of the Sidra for next semester. And I'm thinking I'm more scared of all the impossible _ 'What if?' _ s than of the actual reality" she admitted, more to the canvas than to the man next to her. 

"Please tell me that at least one of your  _ 'What if?' _ s have one Zombie apocalypse, otherwise it wouldn't be fun!"

She turned around laughing, folding and resting her legs next to his as the rooftop's lights lit up on their own accord. Dozens of little white spots made it seem like an enchanted forest, even if trees were far down below. She simply stared at him then, waiting for him to sort his thoughts in coherent sentences. 

"I'm thinking you have absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Not even of Amren, and that is a feat on its own!". They both laughed at that, conscious that despite her tiny frame, Amren was an unstoppable force of Nature that could probably destroy vast cities. "That's one. Next?" Feyre asked, enjoying the way the light played with his hair and the contrast with his dark face. She tried to memorize the sight to paint it later, in the quiet of her room as Mor slept, sketching until late into the night every possible angle to capture all the details, and then to add it to the ever growing series of his portraits she would never show anyone, some properly drown while others were nothing but glorified doodles of his face, his hands, his eyes.

"I'm thinking that this will probably be a lonely summer for me, even though I'll be surrounded by people." He had told her that he and his brothers were going to spend their last summer on the Illyrian mountains, to train in the camps one last time before life after college took over. Since he was a child, his mother had been adamant on sending him there during the vacation days from school. It was a way to keep himself true to his origins, his mother herself having lived there until she had met Rhys' father and fallen for him. 

The story of his parents always brought a smile on Feyre's face, not sure at all how her _ own _ parents had met.

Cassian and Azriel he had met there, respectively when he was 8 and 12. Both orphans, Rhys' mother took it upon herself to teach them and love them, managing to adopt the two boys and expanding her family.

They all still went during the summer there during their childhoods, growing up together. But all good things had to end, he had told her. "I'm thinking I'm losing part of myself, and if it wasn't for Cassian beating me into a bloody mess while we train together I would've lost it long ago."

Not sure of what to say, she moved closer, gathering her own thoughts.

"I'm thinking I'm heartless, to not care about our old house being sold. I care for my father, but I'm not dumb enough to think he'll get better soon, not when all the doctors say he won't. But I don't feel shit for any of those things." she said eventually in a whisper. "And I'm thinking that I will never be able to forgive my sisters for not caring while there was time. And I'm thinking that I don't care if it makes me a monster, but I'm happy that they're the ones dealing with this kind of stuff for once instead of me." 

Rhys nodded his head slowly, understanding her like no one else had. When they first talked about each others' childhoods they had been on that same roof, a bottle of Tequila next to them as Mor danced drunkenly with her girlfriend Andromache. She had scrunched her nose at Rhys'  _ 'spoiled' _ years as he raged on and on at her inconsiderate sisters, swearing to give them both a piece of his mind when he would've seen them. He would, as would everyone in their Inner Circle, but just the thought of having this two sides of herself meet was enough to twist her stomach into a knot. She would make sure to keep Cassian on a tight leash around her oldest sister, though, not knowing how she would react at the hulking brute.

Rhys brought her out of her thoughts once more. "You're not a bad person for this. You're a monster for finishing all my secret stashes of Oreos and never replacing them. But you'd never be one for this." She laughed freely at him, mood lightening instantly. "I've apologised for those!"

"And I've told you that I would never accept those apologies for it!" he claimed, mocking her in an offended tone. She smiled at him again, hugging her legs as the cold hit her skin. 

Despite being mid-June, the evenings were rather freezing and she mentally slapped herself for not bringing a jacket and remaining in the dress she wore to her exam that morning, even though she had to go to her room to fetch her drawing supplies. Shivering lightly, she hoped Rhys wouldn't see her and ruin the momentum by suggesting they moved inside. Feyre knew that the second they stepped into his apartment, all the things she was itching to say but failed miserably to would disappear from her tongue.

Surprising her, as he often did, he wordlessly shrug off his formal dress jacket and placed it on her shoulders, fingers lingering a second too long than usual on her shoulders.

"You still owe me two thoughts" she whispered to the wind, a prayer more than a request, as he shook his head slowly. 

"Fair enough darling. Well right now I'm thinking about you" he confessed, raising his eyes to level hers. Violet against grey. Feyre's breath hitched in her throat. "I'm thinking how nice it is to be with you. How my day suddenly gets better and better as we talk nonsense. How much I love to ear you laugh and badly sing along to Taylor Swift songs." 

His hand moved carefully from where it was rested on his armchair, going straight to hers and holding hers gingerly, almost as if afraid of breaking her. She moved once again closer, impossibly so and as far as her own chair let her, never once removing her hand from his, doing everything she could to not cut that tether that linked them. 

"I'm thinking," she started, mouth suddenly dry as her heart beat faster, "that I very much love it when you ramble about old English poems that I will probably never read. That I love how you put pens in your mouth as you concentrate and how you always brought me coffee when we studied in the library."

They were both well into each other's personal space now. Rhys darted his tongue out to wet his own lips, a tell-tale sign of his nervousness and Feyre could feel his breath on herself, warm and inviting against the cold night. 

He gave her a lopsided smile, leaning in slightly, "I'm thinking that I would very much like to kiss you."

And so she closed the space between them, moving her free hard to caress his cheek as he slid her onto his chair, seating herself into his lap and pressing her body closer.

Time slowed down and sped up simultaneously, both lost in each other. The unspoken truths were now laid bare as their lips brushed, granting each other entrance.

After what to Feyre felt like a second or an eternity, they broke free of each others' grip, gasping for breath without moving an inch.

He smiled widely at her, his eyes still closed as his forehead rested against hers. She had never felt happier in her life than she did in that moment. Suddenly all her worries disappeared, each and every thought replaced by  _ Rhysand _ . He seemed to share her sentiment. 

They remained like that for a while, tangled silently in each other and sharing stolen breaths. 

They only came down once Cassian threatened them to never cook again for the entire group if they remained up one more minute, laughing as little kids being scolded half-heartedly by their mother. Her hand still held tightly in his, neither ever wanting to let go.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE IS THE VIEW!!!
> 
> also quote to another Taylor song, Soon you'll get better


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church bells ring, carry me home Rice on the ground looks like snow

"You may kiss the bride."

Feyre had almost missed the words the priestess had said, loudly to let even those at the end of the church ear. She was too focused on gazing into his violet eyes, categorizing each silver swirl that she never managed to capture properly with her paints, to notice anything but him, anything but his strong hands intertwined in hers. His smile was blinding and threatened to completely undo her fully, yet she couldn't bring herself to care, not when his eyes glimmered in the light. She would welcome Death with open arms if it meant remaining in that moment for eternity, just the two of them.

She could feel him move, slowly tying his arms against her back, trapping her into a prison she would never willingly leave. Rhys' lips were gentle against hers and he smiled softly into the kiss, her own response suit behind. It ended way too quickly, as they both rested one against the other, noses touching lovingly. All around them joyous yellings erupted, people clapping and cheering for the newlyweds. Yet they didn't matter; all Feyre could feel was the soft texture of his suit and the warmth he spread through her with a single touch. 

Someone, undoubtedly Cassian, broke their little bubble by whistling and yelling them to ' _ go get a room _ ' despite that being their wedding day and despite the kiss having been extremely soft and chaste. Rhys threw a rude gesture towards his brother standing behind him, his eyes never once leaving here, and tightened his arms around her, bringing her as close as her dress allowed. She molded against him as she sank into his lips once more, her own arms encircling his neck and bringing him down to her.

_ "This is what Heaven feels like" _ she thought smiling as he raised up in the air and swirled her around, neither caring if they hit someone, lips still connected and wishing to never be apart.

The new and unfamiliar weight on her left hand was welcomed immensely, as had been the momentary pain on her right arm a year prior, when she got herself a fully tattooed sleeve and hand in traditional Illyrian markings, claiming herself for him. She had asked Azriel for help in the translation and to accompany her, to have someone's hand to hold when the pain became unbearable. That same night Rhys had planned on proposing and she had surprised him in the best way possible.  _ "I cannot believe you've beaten me once more!" _ he had lamented that night, playing with her hair as she rested against his chest, their legs tangled in the covers.  _ "Do you mind?" _ she had asked, suddenly self conscious; " _ Not at all, Darling _ " came his reply, silencing as usual all her doubts.

All too soon he had put her down, hands linking in each other's. Feyre could've sworn she was glowing then, such was the happiness coursing through her veins. The reverence and love in his eyes had been enough to choke her and leave her breathless. He had looked at her in that same way during the whole ceremony, a bright grin and wet eyes as he first saw her approach from the other side of the aisle. She had barely been able to keep her own tears at bay as he turned around, perfect in the black suit with silver threads while the glowing light of the altar painted a halo around his head. Her personal angel, dressed every inch the fallen demon. She stored the memory dearly, ready to transfer it in one of her canvases that she didn't have to hide anymore. It had been an incredibly embarrassing moment for her when he found her secret stash of drawings of him. He had the most stupefied look on his face, hands shaking as he stood up and kissed there on the spot, three little words spilling of her lips freely at his reaction as he replied not even a heartbeat later, laughing and kissing her.

They both were incredibly aware of the countless eyes on them, waiting for pictures and to give their congratulations, yet they couldn't let go of each other for a second.

Mor brought them both back to reality, showing her cousin out of the way to embrace her best friend. Feyre hugged her back with fervour, both careful not to mess the make-up they had spent too long applying. When the blonde moved away, arms still around Feyre, her brown eyes were rimmed with silver that she was willing not to spill. Feyre knew she must've had a mirroring look on her own face. "Officially welcome to the family!" Mor said sweetly and that undid both: they crashed once more into each other's arms, tears falling freely.

"Mor, your mascara!" mused Feyre as she tried not to ruin her own eyes too much. Elain laughed freely at her concern, "Don't worry, it's all waterproof!" she claimed while taking her turn congratulating her younger sister. One after the other, her family and friends came closer. Rhys' mother hugged her tightly as his father whispered something to him that had left him beaming as the older man wrapped his son in a tight embrace as well. 

He had walked her down the aisle as the ceremony began. Nesta was slightly offended by that, since she was promised the honour as that their own father had passed away, but she let him take her place with minimal complaining. After her own father had died four years prior, not managing to reach her birthday and let alone Christmas, Rhys' had became a solid point for her, giving suggestions and caring dearly for her. Rhys' mother had also done the same, replacing one by one the scars of neglect Feyre's own mother had left from such a young age.

Feyre couldn't do anything other than tighten her grip on that wonderful family that had welcomed her fully.

When the photographer had finished taking the pictures from the inside in all the possible angles that as an artist Feyre appreciated but as a bride she didn't mind particularly, they slowly moved on the outside of the church, the night sky gleaming above them. It hadn't been easy organizing the wedding to fit both common and Illyrian traditions, but they had managed wonderfully. The ceremony was done during the night, as the Illyrian custom demanded, and the party would happen the next evening. When Feyre had proposed the idea, her then fiancée had reacted rather vividly, leaving the actual planning for very much later, after they were both spent.

"My love" he had whispered as they exited through the main doors, shielding themselves from the rice shower that left the pavement looking like their own little snowstorm in the middle of August. The majority of their guests had enjoyed greatly the choice for a night ceremony, avoiding the summer heat as a chilled breeze washed the small square.

Feyre then smiled up at her husband, profoundly and widely, trying to convey all the love she felt for that man into the simple action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'three Little words' can either be "You're an idiot" or "I love you" it's up to you to choose!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Call my bluff, call you "babe"

It had been a fairly long day for Feyre. She had to organise a new collection for her gallery, dealing with things like catering for the event and security and insurances on the pieces that had to be exposed. Her assistant Ressina was searching for two more artworks, since two of her own paintings that she was supposed to showcase had been just bought. 

The website Azriel had built for her gallery had been a complete success since the opening day, through it Feyre had managed to sell almost all of her creations and many of those that she presented through the gallery itself, reaching the proper audience even outside of Prythian. Paying for international shipping was her new most hated activity, but she couldn't complain. 

In the few years since she had graduated and started business for herself, she had made a name for herself. Her junior and last year of university had given her the opportunity to internship in one of the best art museums in Velaris, where she learnt the importance of good displays and how to haggle the right price for each piece. During that time she mostly painted for commissions, which she continued to take now, five years later, with the only difference being that now a  _ 'Feyre A.N.' _ costed much more than in her early days. Even those she created freely, out of her own heart's desires, were being sold at fairly high prices with a surprisingly high rate. 

So now she had to look and scout for new artists to display, considering the current shortage of her own artworks. It all brought a whole new sense of responsibility to Feyre and a whole lot of paperwork she wasn't particularly fond of. She was everyday grateful of her choice of hiring an assistant, even if at the beginning she was a bit sceptical.

Thankfully, Velaris was the best place in the entire world to be an artist, a safe haven: the city had an entire neighborhood, the Rainbow, fully inhabited by writers and sculptors and poets and painters, with several theatres and galleries and museums. Feyre had chosen to open shop there, in one of the main streets and it had been a glorious success since the inauguration. The artists that made the community had welcomed her warmly and with open arms, helping her get on her own feet at the start with their support, and now she was repaying them in kind, offering opportunities to anyone who might need them. 

Her originally rented space now fully belonged to her, having been bought two years after the opening with the money her hard work brought. She had fallen in love with the locale in an heartbeat, as she walked the Rainbow hand in hand with her boyfriend as he helped her carry back to her place bags full of paint and canvases. Feyre had stopped dead in her tracks, as if called by it, declaring it the perfect spot. Rhys had laughed at her and kissed the top of her head, telling her how she should take the number of the owner and contact them to see if she could rent. Being fresh out of college meant she didn't have enough funds to do more, but one day, Rhys had said, it could've been hers. 

The old lady who owned the space had been ecstatic with her call and heard her ideas with interest. The rent was decent, given the great metrage and locations, but the place was new and needed little to no modifications, and thus  _ 'Starfall _ ' gallery was born. 

When her clock chimed, telling her the time, she slowly rose from her chair, stretching her sore back. The new tattoo she had gotten three weeks prior on her spine still hadn't healed fully, causing her some wincing that her husband was constantly worried of. The long piece was a masterpiece on its own, the longline depicting the different lunar phases she had drawn herself. 

Deciding to call it a day, she gathered her stuff and closed the lights, locking the door on her way out. Despite it being mid-October, the weather was still pleasantly warm even during the evening, and Feyre enjoyed walking alongside of the Sidra quietly as the wind quietly messed her hair. She and Rhys had bought a townhouse on the other side of the river before their wedding, close enough to be able to walk to their respective workplaces, she to the Rainbow while he went back to the university, teaching English poetry and drama, as he had chosen that specific minor on his senior year.

Although they had a similar commute, the different paths had Rhys always beat her to the rush home and he started usually dinner, as she was downright cursed with her cooking inhabilities. Even helping in the kitchen was something she did carefully, her and her husband both weary of the outcomes. The only thing she could do safely from  _ 'scratch' _ was to heat up soup.

A wicked plan began to outline itself in her mind. It had been awhile since she had humoured her husband, both too focused on their respective works. She moved in the upstair bedroom they shared, removing her proper attire to slip into a severely more comfortable pair of leggings and a worn out t-shirt, covered in blue paint of every shade. " _ This is gonna be fun"  _ she thought, delighted in the possible turn of events as she rang up his favourite Chinese restaurant to order take-out to be delivered. 

And then she set to  _ 'work'. _

***

As soon as she felt the front door open, Feyre moved swiftly to rotate the timer on the oven and made it set off immediately. She knew Rhys had heard the little series of noises that signaled the end of a cooking process. He usually would discard his keys on the small table that decorated their tiny foyer as soon as the door closed behind him, but this time he was stalling. 

Probably debating whether to retreat back outside in case the kitchen exploded or not.

The problem wasn't that she was a bad cook perse. Feyre never had much time playing around the stove growing up, thankfully for them Elain was the chef of the household. She had learnt the basics, how to boil water for instant cheap ramen noodles and how to heat up frozen pre-cooked stuff in the microwave of the communal kitchen of her dorm on her first month in Velaris, with Alis patiently telling her what to do to survive in case there was an emergency. During the years she had tried a little more, once she moved with Amren and Mor and had a kitchen at her disposal without limitations. 

Her first attempt at scrambling eggs for breakfast set the fire alarm off and she had to explain to an exasperated fireman that the house wasn't on fire. That earned her a wary look from her roommates, but considering that neither of them had any luck with cooking, no one spoke of it for the following week.

Her second one brought a weird texture of a pasture looking like brown instead of the expected yellow, completely stuck at the bottom of the pan. Not burnt, simply  _ attached _ there and impossible to remove. She then went to buy a new set, throwing the mystery pan immediately in the trash.

Cassin was with her for her third trial, to guide her into the mystical art he had mastered, and made her solemnly swear to never,  _ ever _ , again touch a kitchen utensil if not with the sole purpose to eat with it, and even then he had some serious doubts about letting her anywhere near anything inside a kitchen. She wasn't allowed to be there unsupervised, he had said, scared shitless.

So the problem wasn't inside her cooking abilities, since she made the best sandwiches out of anyone in the Inner Circle, but rather her rotten luck an inability not to burn anything that involved heat or patience to be made.

A smile appeared on Feyre's lips as she suppressed a series of giggles that were threatening to rise up, imagining the face her husband was surely making. The sounds from the foyer told her two things: the door had been closed and remained unlocked, ready to aid in their escape from a fire that Rhysand thought undoubtedly might happen any minute, and her husband was taking his time through his routine, as if a minimal change in the air might've triggered the self destruction of their home.

"Darling?" he called for her as he made his way through the open space of the living room to reach for the kitchen, cautiously stopping before properly entering the room and setting off something. 

Feyre immediately turned around, her light brown hair neatly folded in a messy bun swinging to the side and promptly losing some strands that fell into her face. She found him leaning against the doorframe, seemingly relaxed were it not for the fact he was hiding his hands inside the pockets of his black pants. Her genuine smile seemed to ease his stance and Rhys took the opportunity to move towards her. She turned back at the task at hand as he walked past the island, using her knife to cut an apple into tiny slices. His arms came to encircle her, effectively pinning her against the counter, and she leaned back, resting her head on his chest. 

"How was work today?" she asked, warmth radiating through her as he bent down to place a soft kiss to the top of her head. For someone who thought the stove might explode at any minute, he was incredibly calm with the whole ordeal. 

"The usual" he shrugged "some kid had the audacity to groan when I told them we would soon start with Shakespeare's Sonnets!"

One of the many things she utterly loved about him was how passionate he was for his job, for the curriculum he got to teach each class. Overall, his favourite subject was Shakespeare, on whom he did his dissertation which got him the place at the University. He still kept on writing, publishing mostly the new researches his department did, and he worked with all his heart.

Feyre shook her head slightly, "Kids this day have no respect." Then, in afterthought, she added "Are you going to downplay the whole homoerotic full blown text like our old prof did?" 

"Are you crazy? That's the best part!" His grip tightened around her as she set the knife down, wiping her hands on a nearby handchendief. "I'm thinking about letting those freshmans do their winter final paper on who they actually thought Good Ol' Willy was shagging." 

"Professor Carver might object." she said, turning in his arms and now facing him, her back against the cold material of the counter.

"Who do you think I got the idea from? That man wants nothing more than to gossip, even if it's 500 years old stuff."

"Remember how he was somehow the first person outside our Inner Circle to know we were dating when we came back?" They both laughed at the memory, noses brushing softly as they were both content to remain there.

"How was your day?" he asked, his breath caressing her neck gently. 

"Too much paperwork. But I sold that Springtime painting we both didn't like to probably the most horrible and rude woman ever." 

The woman had truly been a demon: she had stormed in as if she owned the place, demanding attention. Ressina had been patient and listened to her raging nonsense as best as she could, but couldn't do much herself. Feyre then went into her aid: she had past experience dealing with bad customers from when she used to be a waitress in high school, yet this woman took the cake. lanthe Spring, as she had proudly introduced herself as if she was the most important person in the world, was looking for a present for her husband, she had told her while raising the most preposterous ring to ever been made. The green gems looked more like a torture device than a wedding ring, but Feyre didn't usually judge. After an entire hour looking at the catalogue, her eyes had set on one of the paintings Feyre had done way back in her freshman year. She had finally gotten the approval from the art department to sell the early works she had done during her period there and the majority had either already been sold or she had gifted to her family and friends. That was the last one to remain in Feyre's possession, probably the laziest work she had ever done: the colours well dull, the motif unclear; despite it showing a green and flowery scenery, it resembled much more a dead nature. She hadn't been in the best mindset when the work had come to life, her constant fights with Tamlin causing an artist block on all her works, yet the woman had been ecstatic, claiming it reminded her of her own husband.

Feyre didn't make the connection until she saw the checkbook, yet no feeling came to her, good nor bad. She would've liked to know his reaction at seeing her painting though, just to get some sick and twisted satisfaction at how she was thriving with only her  _ 'hobby' _ . "But I got a nice cut from that, so dinner's on me!" she finished lightly, pulling herself from her daydream.

"I know exactly what you're doing, Feyre Darling." he hummed from her neck, as he drew his lips across the skin. Suddenly she was finding it hard to concentrate. "I have no idea of what you're talking about, Rhysand."

He pulled back abruptly, moving their bodies till she was now leaning against the empty and clean kitchen island. "Your attempt at scaring me almost worked, you know?" he whispered against her ear, moving to nibble at the soft flesh, "But next time make a little mess with some flour all around if you want to truly give me a heart attack."

"But you see," she started, trying to sort her foggy thoughts as the world narrowed to where his lips were against her neck once more, "I'd have to take you to the ER then and that's too much work, babe." She was breathless, sick of the attention her neck was getting. Hands plunged in his hair, positioning him flush against her as her lips claimed his, his own hands roaming freely under her T-shirt. 

He suddenly pulled away slightly, eyes never leaving hers and not bothering to remove his hands from where they rested on her back, slowly working the clasps of her bra. "Not to mention you don't even know where to find most things that aren't downright edible without preparation in our pantry, am I correct?" 

She brought him back down in an instant, "Arrogant prick" she murmured against his lips as she began to undo the button of his shirt, their hips moving in sync as their lips. 

He hoisted her up on the island counter in one swift move as she took the shirt off of his shoulders, caressing the inky swirls of his traditional lilynian tattoo that adorned his upper torso. He immediately returned the favour, removing her tee and bra in one swipe, moving his attention fully to the newly exposed skin, biting and nipping there. Her grip on his hair became iron as his hands darthed southward, his own wedding band cold against her feverish skin as his mouth drew circles around her breast. He began to slowly slid off her leggings, never once removing his mouth from her, when the doorbell rang.

A string of colourful profanities that could've rivaled a sailor's entire vocabulary made its way out of Feyre's mouth as her husband merely laughed at their interrupted moment.

"I've ordered Chinese" was the only non-curse Feyre spoke as she jumped of the counter, grabbing her t-shirt to answer the door at least decent.

"I was indeed promised dinner" Rhys said, not bothering to cover himself as his wife paid for the food. 

"I still got you there for a second, didn't l?" she asked, walking back to the kitchen carrying two bags.

Rhys kissed her cheek sweetly, "Always, my Darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I had to say she can only make soup ( ꈍᴗꈍ)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have my back, yeah, everyday

Feyre hadn't received that many handshakes and congratulations since their wedding.

Back then she had to shoulder the attention alone, giving polite smiles as Rhys was equally distracted. The crowd had swarmed them to opposite sides of the altar, Feyre's white gown and the constant press of bodies not giving her the proper chance to move freely. When they were finally done with the guests' pleasantries, husband and wife had walked back to each other and that felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle in place, his arms carrying her home, to whenever he was.

Now she wasn't alone accepting the complements. Rhys held a hand against the small of her back, beaming next to her at each praise his wife rightfully received, proudly backing her up since the day they met all those years ago.

The memory was still fresh in her mind, despite being over six years old. She had entered her room, finding him there, waiting for Mor and lazily running his fingers over Feyre's bookshelf. "Who are you?" she had asked, a little bit harsher than usual. She had had a long tiring day, her boyfriend grinding on her nerves, and she had wanted nothing other than curling on her bed and watch Netflix. But there had been an incredibly attractive stranger in her room and she couldn't exactly remove her shoes with him standing there! Mor had then yelled from the bathroom, "He's my cousin, Feyre. Rhys. Play nice!" 

She hadn't specified who was supposed to ' _ play nice _ ' with, yet Feyre had simply held up her hand for him to shake, maintaining her distance. He had taken it gently, raising it up to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of it. Suddenly Feyre understood to whom Mor had directed her words and she could feel the heat rising up on her cheeks. She had removed her hand abruptly, reminding herself that she had a boyfriend who was already pissed at her for not changing her daily schedule to accommodate his. Rhys hadn't commented, just chuckled and turned back to her bookcase as she discarred her bag. Feyre knew that she should've started a polite conversation, but the silence between them was comfortable and she couldn't think of anything to say.

"You took Greek Lit?" he had asked her eventually, deep voice and a soft northern accent. "Yeah I had a credit free last year and decided to take it instead of Latin. The mythology's much more interesting." He shook his head a little at her reply, a small smile appearing on his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Mor told me you're an art major. What would you need any of those lit classes for?" he inquired, genuine curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Feyre shrugged at that, the VU art department was the only one that required one or the other, but that was during the sophomore year with all the other Lit courses, a few of which she had already taken in her freshman one. "Both for curriculum and fun. I love the stories." The smile he gave her was blinding, both understanding and changing. "Couldn't agree more. What version of Hades and Persephone do you prefer?"

She was speechless. She hadn't told anyone about how that was her favourite myth and yet this stranger had gotten it right at the first try, even though the books on her shelves were generic and didn't focus particularly of that story. She had discussed the story only once with Tamlin while she was writing a paper on it, and he had dismissed her instantly, siding with Zeus and Demeter. She was almost tempted to lie to Rhys, to give him the traditional  _ 'bad guy takes the princess _ ', yet she couldn't bring herself to. "The one where they're both in love and he saved her, not kidnapped her" she said truthfully, feeling almost a physical weight at her chest. "Couldn't have agreed more, Feyre Darling." She had blushed at the term of endearment and had shot a mean glare that left him laughing as Mor opened the bathroom door, carefully looking between them. 

"I don't have to kick his ass, do I?" she had asked Feyre, a pointed look to tell her she meant it. The artist merely laughed at that, looking up at Rhys who was equally amused. The pair had left soon enough after that, inviting her to come along, but Feyre had simply declined the offer, not knowing if the second week of knowing someone was enough to intrude in their own group of friends.

And now there she was, smiling widely at her husband as he tried to explain badly a painting to her and Azriel, who simply shook his head in disbelief. She couldn't help but laugh at his poor attempt of colour coding as he tried to convince her that all the skyscrapers in the background were spaceships ready to be launched. 

He kept his hands on her throughout the night, either holding her hand in his own as they walked the people-packed halls of the gallery or caressing her back with soothing strokes to ease her nerves.

It wasn't until later, around ten, that he had left her alone talking to a client, excusing himself to go and refill their glasses. "Feyre?" a voice she hadn't heard in years, with the exception of a few nightmares here and there, spoke from behind. She politely apologized to the man she was talking to, promising to find him in the morning to finalize the details of the custom commission he would be hiring her to do, and she turned around slowly. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for a friendly face, before settling on him.

Tamlin hadn't changed much. Same blonde hair, now cut short in a very business-like looking cut; same emerald green eyes; same expensive looking clothes. He now sported a white gold ring on his left hand, although he was missing his other half. Due to the lack of yelling and due to the air not being  _ that _ tense, Feyre thought she had been left at home.

"Mr. Spring" she called professionally, establishing her boundaries as she would with any new client. "It's a pleasure to see you." Her smile was more fake than an  _ 'original Rembrandt' _ that was being sold in a backdoor alley, but he didn't seem to notice.

_ " _ I was hoping I'd find you here, Feyre" the way he said her name brought shivers of dread and terror to her spine. "This is my own gallery, Mr Spring. Where else should I be?" she asked, taking a step back as he took one forward, not waiting to come closer to him than necessary. Memories of him telling her that her  _ 'silly dream _ ' wouldn't get her that far swirled in front of her eyes, a proud and wicked satisfaction spreading in her bones.

His eyes looked for hers but she avoided them pointedly. "What can I do for you, Mr Spring? Wasn't your wife satisfied with the knowledge of our previous relationship? I'm afraid to inform you that we do not take returns nor do refunds" That probably wasn't the answer to his presence, considering the she devil wasn't there herself.

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. "I've made a mistake letting you go" he said eventually. Rage started coursing through Feyre's veins, yet she managed to keep the control over it and her voice didn't falter as she spoke, "Let me correct you, Mr Spring: you've made _ many _ mistakes and you didn't  _ 'let me go' _ , I broke up with you and left", venom lacing and dripping from each word.

"Feyre that's enough!" he scolded her as he used to back in the day, treating her like a miscreant child, "Enough with this little delusion of yours. You know we're destined to be together."

The bitter laugh that came out of her had drawn a little attention from passerby visitors, but she scolded her features to maintain a normal demeanour as she hissed through her teeth at him "You're the one who's delusional, considering it's been years and I have never once looked back at my decision. Hell, I forgot that you existed even! Also, you're destined to rot in a coffin as I appear on artbooks for the next two centuries at least!" He was about to retort back at her when abruptly the words died in his mouth. A comforting presence appeared behind her back, placing his hands on her hips as she leaned back into Rhys, immensely thankful. With her husband came a wave of confidence that Feyre hadn't had before. "Now, please excuse me but I've got other guests to entertain" she said, not caring if she was being rude to a client, "Say hello to your wife from me. Don't let the door kick you on your way out as you leave before I call security." 

And with that, she turned around, guiding Rhys with her and gladly accepting a glass of white wine from a waiter. 

"I'll be right back, Darling. Gotta make sure he doesn't bother us anymore" he whispered against her ear, the soft blow of his breath comforting her greatly.

She nodded once, "Don't get blood on your shoes. It's a bitch to take off Italian leather!" He laughed at her, kissing her cheek before leaving the gallery.

When he came back a few minutes later he was dazzling and spottles in his suit, but his eyes were clouded and mouth pressed on a thin line. She simply moved her hand to caress his cheek as she leaned forward to brush briefly her lips against his.

"Thank you." she whispered against his lips as his arms wrapped around her middle. "For what?" came the breathless reply. She nuzzled her nose against his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble tickled her, "For always having my back, everyday."

A soft smile appeared on his lips and he tightened his grip on her. "Not a problem, Darling."

He then released her, holding her hand in his, before quietly adding "I do enjoy the view from there, though!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote to Taylor Swift "I forgot that you existed"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend

The first thing Feyre realized before even opening her eyes was the lack of a warm body next to her. It wasn't unusual for Rhys to get up before she did, either to fix something for his day's lectures or to train, but Feyre was never particularly fond of his absence as she woke up begrudgingly. Cassian teased her non-stop about how little of an early bird she was compared to his brother, but the main reason she ever woke up before noon, without counting work, was to at least kiss her husband goodbye before he left for his own job.

The second thing she noticed was the crispness and general sense of 'new' that came from the sheets and the softness of the mattress she laid on. It felt as if she was being slowly swallowed by a cloud and the sensation was a stark contrast to what she was used to. All their family constantly teased them for their favour of silk beddings and pillowcases, but Rhys always commented that they were just jealous of their bacteria-free bed. Eventually everyone got converted from the cheap cotton they used in college to silk, as all of their bank accounts could spare the expense and splurge now that they weren't broke college students anymore. Not that any of the Nox brothers nor the  _ Golden Queen, _ as Mor had been playfully dubbed by Amren, was even remotely broke to begin with.

"It's all for the aesthetic" had once told her Cassian on their old apartment roof, pissed out drunk and desperatedly trying to get her to help him decorating a cake for his Post-Spring vacation assignment . "Just think about it! Your talent and my sugar paste!". She had outrighted refused when he began claiming how he would not share the finished product, a three layers with different percentages of cacao each, with her. "It will be a masterpiece. We can't eat masterpieces!" 

"Well then don't make it a masterpiece, I wanna eat it already!" said an equally wasted Azriel, comically clutching an empty packet of chips with a saddened expression. Feyre sent Amren a long suffering look and was met back with an understanding one from the only other sober person on that roof, while the tiny woman mouthed her " _ The Joy of Babysitting"  _ as she stood in between a bottle of Vodka and a very handsy Mor. Rhys hadn't arrived yet and she tried not to feel disappointed. It had been over a month since her breakup and she was nowhere near ready for another relationship, yet she wanted him with them, with  _ her _ , even if she wasn't ready to admit it to herself.

Feyre stretched her arms above her head, taking away the last morsels of sleep from her eyes before opening them. She was immediately brought back to reality: she and Rhys had organized a weekend away to celebrate their anniversary in peace. Mor had demanded a fancy party like the one two years before, but both of them had preferred to spend the time quietly with each other, on a beautiful resort in the Illyrian mountains that one of her clients had suggested.

His side of the bed was still warm, also thanks to her own body heat as she had scooted over him in her sleep, but she could hear the sounds of the luxurious shower running. She debated for a couple of minutes whether to join him, knowing that they wouldn't emerge from the bathroom for a while if she did and therefore miss breakfast time, when she heard the water coming to a stop. 

And there was her husband, one towel wrapped low around his hips as he dried his hair with another. "You're a sight for sore eyes" he told her after having taken her in, bed hair sticking in every direction and clad only in a sheer nightgown. They had arrived the night before, too tired after the long four hours drive to do anything other than hold each other throughout the night. Despite it being the middle of August, the weather up in the mountains was still rather cold and they had enjoyed each other's warmth immensely. 

"You're not so bad yourself" she said right back, letting her eyes trace over the plains of his abdomen, defined by years of training. 

He chuckled at her blatant staring as he inched closer to where she rested against the headboard, the bed dipping under his weight as he moved closer, capturing her lips in his. She opened up for him, deepening the kiss as her arms twisted around his neck, bringing him fully down with her. She would never get enough of this, she thought with a smile, never get enough of the kisses and the hugs and just  _ him _ . Her hands moved once more, tracing a path down his bare back as he positioned himself between her legs on top of the covers. Her laugh filled the room as he began to remove the straps of her nightgown with his teeth, a playful gleam in his eyes as he then moved his attention to her shoulders nibbling at the bare skin, turning her laugh into soft whispers of encouragement. Her hands had now reached the towel, untying it swiftly and leaving him bare before her. His own began to trace the fabric down her body, exposing every inch of her skin to his prying eyes. His lips returned to hers as he twisted them around, his back now against the soft mattress as she straddled his hips, hands never leaving the exploration of each other's bodies.

"We will be late for breakfast" she said breathlessly as his mouth worked her neck, hands caressing her back. She couldn't really care less about anything that wasn't him at the moment, but the sensible and hungry part of her grounded her to the reality of her empty stomach.

"There's room service" he called from the space in between her breasts as she reclined back, grinding against his hips in desperate need for friction, "We can order in and not move an inch". She was lost in sensation, unable to speak anything other that his name and a few choices of curses as he teased her endlessly, his hands on her hips, keeping her still as he worked on her upper body.

"Darling?" he called at her before his mouth closed around one of her nipples, teeth grazing the delicate skin and elicing a moan from her throat.

Feyre's hands moved on his feverish skin, dragging her nails over his shoulders and arms, moving downwards before one of them stopped its trek and was placed around him cock, pumping it into her palm a couple of times before bringing it into her mouth. Rhys made a strangled noise from the back of his throat, his hands fisting into her hair as her own kept on moving up and down on his length.

He was a bubbling mess, incapable of speaking. A sound of disapproval rose from the back of his throat as she removed her mouth from him, the tight grasp on her hair moving to her backside as she aligned herself over him. She slowly sank down into him, stilling to adjust herself around him while a soft moan escaped her lips. He immediately brought her downward, moving his mouth against hers as the subtle change of position elicited a series of sounds from both of them. 

Instantaneously she began to move, aided by his strong hands on her ass.

"Yeah let's do that" she replied arstly, hands bracing over his chest as she slowly rose into a kneeled position between his legs to sink further into him. 

They chose to move in a slow rhythm, both knowing each other's body like their own. Her fingers followed the path of his tattoos, replacing them eventually with her mouth.

It was heartbreaking slow and brutal at the same time, the pace they set, yet neither complained. Rhys only moved to capture her lips once more as she drawed near her peak, one of his hands leaving their comfortable home on her rean to move to her center, flickering her clit viciously as he heaved himself into her with more vigor from under her. 

Feyre's vision shattered a few thrusts later, her back arching as the room filled with her shouts. He followed shortly, pumping into her throughout her climax and drawing it out as much as he could.

"Let's stay in bed the whole weekend" she then said, momentarily sated as she tried to regain her breath that was coming out in frantic pants, not bothering to move nor to remove him from inside of her, "Let's not move from this bed until it's time to leave."

"Why, my Darling Feyre, that is probably the best idea you ever had!" said an equally spent Rhys, toying loosely with her curls.

"I thought my best moment was agreeing to marry you!"

His dark and rich laugh filled the room, "I don't think so. The best moment was talking Greek myth in your room as we were just friends."

"Yeah. It's nice, having you as my friend" she whispered, holding him closer to her naked body as she planted a kiss over his heart. "Well then I hope you don't do those kinds of activities with all your friends."

"I don't know what you're talking about" she claimed, her face a mask of pure undiluted innocence.

A wicked smile appeared on his lips. "Allow me to re-freshen your memories then."

They didn't leave the bed for the entirety of the weekend indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand here we are!   
Last chapter. I really hope you enjoyed it!   
Thank you so much for reading it and sticking with me :*  
Till next time

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this!  
Please, don't forget to leave a kudo and a comment if you liked it!  
I am looking for someone to beta my feysand fics, so if you are interested come and talk to me on my Tumblr at @drjackandmissiole  
Thank you again!  
Till next time,  
Jo


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